


all my friends get so low-down

by voodoochild



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Caning, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Femdom, Fighting Kink, Impact Play, Kink Negotiation, Multi, Open Relationships, POV Female Character, Painplay, Pictures, Polyamory, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Sex Tapes, Sub!Roman, Swearing, Switch!Renee, Threesome - F/M/M, Video, top!Seth, top!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-03-27 15:31:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13883784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voodoochild/pseuds/voodoochild
Summary: It's not interviewing Samoa Joe that gets to Renee. It's not him shit-talking her husband and beating up her friends. No, it's mostly him getting in her personal space, and not being allowed to hit back. Roman and Seth fix that for her.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh man, this got away from me. It started as what was going to be a short kinkmeme fill and just kept growing until it reached monstrosity status. Anyway, it was started for the Wrestling Kinkmeme prompt for polyShield + Renee during/after the January 1st Raw, with the three of them missing Dean, and it was *supposed* to be finished for seasonofkink (for the prompts "impact pain play/threesomes/pictures & video”), but that clearly didn't happen. Better late than never? :)
> 
> Title from "Get Hurt" by the Gaslight Anthem. Love to K for the beta, kicking my ass into gear, and helping with the research. If I've gotten anything egregiously wrong with the kinky parts, kindly let me know.

It wasn't the interview that really got to her.

She's a professional, okay, and there are far more unpleasant people she's interviewed than Samoa Joe. It's not like he'd asked to be the mouthpiece for a bunch of wannabe tough guy writers. It's not like she can blame him for what happened to Dean - that had been a freak landing two months ago off a ladder spot he's done a hundred times and her husband's stubborn insistence it was nothing - and it's not like she can throw a tantrum and tell the writers *not* to let one of their biggest heels capitalize on the storyline. Joe's a great talker, sells a storyline well, everyone knows that.

So no, she doesn't care that she had to interview Joe. She doesn't even care that the writers went for the cheap shot on her marriage, because that's been going down since the Miz storyline, and she can't just say "no, don't talk about my marriage anymore".

What set her off was the fact that Joe got in her personal space. 

There's the Lillian Garcia Rule - when you do an interview, keep a foot or so of distance between the wrestler and the female interviewer - which is mandatory for everyone. It helps Renee and Dasha and Charley feel more comfortable, and 99% of the time, everyone remembers it. Joe's just caught up in his promo, and his hand gets uncomfortably close to her chest, and he's yelling right in her ear about everything she doesn't want to think about (Dean rehabbing at home, Roman's hair-trigger temper, the Shield never getting their championship run). 

All she wants to do is punch Joe straight in the mouth. She considers it, for a half-second. Dean's taken her to his boxing gym, she knows how to throw a decent right hook, and she'd probably break her hand, but it'd be worth it for the spreading pain in her body and the blood on Joe's face. Worth it to feel that adrenaline rush that the boys can have, but that she isn't allowed. Can't have a pretty backstage interviewer covered in bruises, or punching a coworker enough to make him bleed.

Except then it's over, Joe's walking off and the cameras are lowering, and she isn't sure what the hell her face looks like, but Eric, one of the crew, quietly asks for her mic pack and passes her off to Katie the PA. Katie's apparently assigned to her for the night, because the girl hands Renee her phone.

"Go and call Dean, I won't snitch. You just have to get back here in time for your interview with Roman."

Renee's sure she doesn't deserve having the rules broken for her, but she doesn't care, dialing Dean and ducking into the nearest ladies room. Miraculously, it's free. Her FaceTime opens with her husband in a tank top and sweats, arm in the sling and Blue sprawled on his lap, but he grins at her.

"Missed me enough to break the old man's no-phone rule?" She swears she doesn't mean to start crying, but she's frustrated and she misses him like breathing, and his eyes widen. "Ah, shit. Babe, baby, don't cry, what's going on?

"Fucking everything," she says, backing up to hit the wall, sliding down to sit on the floor. "Did you see that interview?"

"West Coast delay, remember? Babe, you're gonna have to talk to me. What interview?"

She walks him through the interview, voice shaking when she talks about the cheap shots at him living off her paycheck, gritting out through her teeth how close Joe got. Dean's hand curls into a fist, but he reaches over, scratches Blue's ears to calm himself down.

"Fuck, I'm sorry. I know it doesn't help when I can't do shit, but I'm sorry the writers are being such raging dicks. If it helps, you ain't the only one who wants to knock Joe's teeth down his throat. I think I spent two hours talking Roman down after the DQ last week."

"Roman’s a lucky fucking asshole," she growls. "He can hit anyone he wants, and it's okay. No one's gonna touch him. He can clock Joe right in his smug mouth, and all he'll get is another fine. I'll get fucking fired."

Dean's quiet for a few minutes, chewing on his thumbnail, and she feels embarrassed that she's complaining so much to him. He can't do anything to change the situation, and he's already in enough pain from the surgery. She should have just gone for a walk to clear her head, and she's about to tell him so when he sighs.

"Babe, I'm gonna give you an order, okay?"

"I - are you sure? You know I hate doing it without you."

"Don't have a choice. I love you, and I don't like letting you go so long without a scene. I also don't like you being this angry over this bullshit, and I don't like my boys feeling the same. Will you go to Ro and Seth for me?"

She can't answer right away, because it usually takes her a lot longer to get into headspace. This is really sudden, and she still has an interview with Roman to do, and it's a thousand times easier when Dean wraps himself around her and pets her hair and makes everything easy and reasonable.

"I can talk to them," she says eventually.

"Then that's your order. You have my permission and shit for anything that results, go fuckin' nuts. I trust y'all."

She has to drop her voice for the next part - god only knows who could be listening, she's still in the arena - and lets herself sink into headspace a little. 

"Thank you, sir."

Dean's grin is sharp. "Anytime, doll. Get back to work and call me after you finish your task."

She's not really sure how she gets through the interview with Roman considering her head is an echo chamber at this point. It's not as if she has many lines to remember, but she has to be focused and engaged, and it's unfair because she's got Dean's orders bouncing around her head. 

Talk to Seth and Roman. Ask them for a scene. Let Dean watch.

It sounds simple, and it's anything but. She's not a regular part of what Dean has going on with Seth and Roman, and while they've made it clear that she would be welcome if she wanted to join more often, she knows the futility of getting involved with road husbands. It's a special occasion thing, and something she's never initiated before.

"Renee, you all right?" Roman asks, and she blinks. Looks around to see the room's cleared and Roman's sat her down on the bench. He looks concerned - she wonders how long she's been out of it.

"November."

She's never used the word before, but Roman knows it immediately - it belongs to the boys, it's their codeword for needing a scene. It's for when Seth needs to be taken apart, it's for when Dean needs to throw himself against something besides himself, for when Roman needs to get out of his own head. She hears Roman bellow for Seth and then the sound of the lock clicking. 

Roman's hands cradle her face, and she registers he's on his knees in front of her with Seth wrapped around her back, warm and solid. 

"Hey sweetheart, what's going on?" Roman asks, and she makes a harsh noise, turns her face into his palm to stifle it. His mouth thins, and he holds her a little more firmly. "Need some words here, you gotta tell us what we can do for you."

"I want to hit Joe. I want to punch him as hard as I can, split my knuckles right open with it. Knock Dean's name out of his mouth." The words start coming faster, spilling off her tongue, and it feels so good to say them out loud. "He won't fucking shut up, and if I hit him, he'll hurt me and I don't care. I don't fucking care if he hurts me because someone fucking needs to, and Sir can't be here."

Roman inhales sharp, and a low growl rumbles out of Seth - surprisingly, but maybe it shouldn't surprise her, she knows they've played like this with Dean before. Seth pulls her closer into his arms, kisses her temple. "If you want somebody to stop you, I don't think we're your guys. I'd personally love to see you knock out a couple of his teeth."

“Delta,” Roman says warningly, and Renee feels Seth tense against her back. 

“Yeah?”

“For a fucking week, uce. Tried the phone thing with our boy and it ain't done shit. You mind?”

The only word of theirs she knows is November, but this one seems to have a different meaning.

Seth shakes his head. Drops his head to her shoulder, breathes for a moment, and when he speaks, he sounds calmer. “Give me a number on how bad you need to punch something right now, Renee.”

“Nine,” she grits through her teeth, gripping Roman's tee-shirt.

"Not now," Seth says, and it's that absolute tone that she needs. Like his word is law. "You hear me, Renee? Breathe for me and tell me if Dean knows about this."

"I called him. He said I need it, and I needed to come to you."

"You're a good girl," Roman says, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "We're gonna show him how good you are. I - fuck, I've got to get out there. My match is next. Seth?"

A sudden chill as Roman pulls gently away, and Seth keeps his arms around her. Secure hold - probably halfway to a submission, and that just makes it better. "I got her. I'll call Dean, let him know the plan."

"Keys?"

"Got ‘em. Beat the shit outta Joe for us, huh?"

The door clicks as Roman leaves, and she feels her hands trembling against Seth's arms. He presses his mouth to hers - brief, but comforting. Steady. She hands him her phone and he dials Dean. Holds the phone up while the FaceTime connects, the thumbnail in the corner of the screen catching her eye, and Renee thinks, absently, how small she looks against Seth. 

"Babe," Dean says, picking up. "Hey Seth, how's my girl?"

"Really fucking good for us." Seth strokes at her arms, warmth trailing from his fingers. He always runs hot - Dean claims he's better than a space heater - and she curls into his body, buries her nose in his shoulder. "She got through the interview, gave us the word, and explained what she could."

"That's good, Renee. Can you look at me for a second?" She does, blinking to focus, and he's giving her that wicked little smirk. "Proud of you.”

“I'm taking point,” Seth says, his voice soft. “Um, Ro kinda needs it in the worst way, too.”

Dean smiles. “Gotta do what you have to do, brother. I trust you. Renee, you ready to take what he gives you?"

"Yes."

"Mmm, doesn't sound to me like you are, but you're still in the arena, right?"

Seth checks his watch. "Yeah, we're gonna be a good hour getting to the hotel. Ro's main-eventing."

"Shit. I just remembered I have to take the meds in 10 minutes, and you know what's going to happen when I do?"

It's fucking bullshit. "Yeah, go directly to sleep. Do not pass fucking Go." She digs her nails into Seth's shoulder, makes him hiss in pain before grabbing her wrist. "You promised you'd be on the phone for it."

"You think I want to miss this?" Fuck, she's made him angry, and she's being childish, and it's still bullshit. He should be here with them, not stuck in Vegas with only the dog for company. Dean scrubs a hand over his eyes, and sighs. "You really do need to be taken down, baby. Timing sucks, but it ain't something that can be helped. Promise to call me before you leave tomorrow, and promise to be good for Seth."

She mumbles out a promise, and Seth turns the phone up to his face. "I think I know what might work for all of us. What toys can I use and what kind of marks can I leave?"

Dean groans, reaches somewhere below the frame to touch himself. "That kind of mood, huh? Nothing that breaks skin and nothing that would show on camera, no tying up, but the rest is up to you. There's a blue drawstring bag with some toys I don't mind you playing with. Prefer you didn't use anything of yours on her. All right with you, baby?"

The words feel dragged out of her. Like they're cutting her tongue, but she says them anyway because she doesn't want to disobey one of Dean's orders. "Yes, please."

"Gorgeous. Tell the big guy to be good. Love you both, okay?"

Her voice sounds so small, shivering as it comes out of her mouth. "Love you."

"You too," Seth says, and hangs up. Doesn't move yet, and she can practically see the wheels turning in his head - planning, strategizing, figuring out how this is going to work. He pushes the brim of his cap up, makes sure she can see his eyes. "Okay. All right, here's what's going to happen. You're going to get all your stuff and meet me at the car. You're not going to go anywhere near Joe, and you're not going to take your mood out on anyone else. You got me?"

That's the question. Does she trust him for this, trust that Dean trusts him? 

"Yeah. I'll meet you in a few minutes."


	2. Chapter 2

She's leaning against the Shield SUV - they still call it that, even though Dean's not there - her bags at her feet and flicking aimlessly through her Twitter when Seth emerges from the arena. He clicks the door open, and she doesn't even bother trying to put her own bags in the trunk, because she's lost that tug-of-war too many times in the past. Just gets in shotgun, and waits for Seth to close the trunk.

He slides into the driver's seat and closes the door. "No problems?"

"Yeah, Seth, I managed to get my bags and walk out here without punching anyone. Shocker."

"Hey, I'm just asking." He doesn't raise his voice, but there's definitely something there. "Ro's gonna be a while, so we're gonna talk before we start off for the hotel, okay?"

"Okay."

"Dean texted me your limits and safewords. Here - anything to add?" 

Flips his phone around to show her, and she scans through the message. "You can go off that, but - I have one to change. Giving pain is usually not my thing, but I want it tonight. And taking it is usually yellow, but I'm about an 8 right now on the scale of how bad I want it. How is that going to work?"

"Thought about that," Seth says idly, taking his phone back. He grips her wrist with his other hand, fingers curling around almost bruisingly. Her breath starts to come quicker almost immediately, and his smile is soft and a little cruel. "You're gonna hurt Roman. Some of what you decide, but mostly only the way I tell you. And if you do a good job, one of us is gonna hurt you."

She bites her lip, doesn't want to let anything out yet. Doesn't want to give herself away, even if Seth can probably read it all over her, and sinks a little into the feeling of his hand tight around her wrist. 

"And Roman's okay with this?"

Seth barks out a laugh. "And here we thought Dean was running home and blabbing about everything."

"Not really. I don't usually hear about him topping you guys, that's - it's private. Like how I hope he doesn't tell you everything about me and him."

"No, but you know how mouthy he gets. But me and him and Roman, is that something you wouldn't mind hearing more about?"

"Yeah. Scandalize me, Rollins. I mean, I know your deal with him, but what kinky shit does my guy get up to with Roman?"

Seth licks his lips, pulls her in closer to put his mouth to her ear. "Ro's the biggest painslut in the company. Everything he takes in the ring? That's just foreplay to him. Comes back from every single match hard as a rock, sometimes he has to jerk off in the shower right away 'cause he's so keyed up."

It's a fucking gorgeous image that's now in her head, Roman slinking through backstage aching in a number of ways, looking for Seth or Dean to make it perfect. That hair of his curtaining his face, the flush across the bridge of his nose and tips of his ears you really have to know is there to spot. She wonders how much force it's going to take to get a mark to show up on him.

"And recently?" she asks, working her wrist in Seth's grip just to feel the bones of her wrist grinding against his hand. Sharp, bruising pain, and Seth's mouth quirks at the small cry she makes. "You've been taking care of him?"

"Oh, he's been a fucking terror ever since Dean got hurt, needs more to just take the edge off. Cause our Deano's the one who usually takes him apart, roughs him up enough to scratch that itch. Think we can do it tonight?"

God, she's turned on, like Seth's voice flipped a switch in her. He's not quite as good at the dirty talk as Dean, doesn't have that natural filthiness, but he's doing just fine right now. She's got the perfect image of Roman in her head, on his knees and letting her do what she wants to him. 

"I - I could hit him, right?" she asks, and Seth nods. "I could punch him the way I wanted to punch Joe. And he'd like it?"

"Oh my god, Renee, you'd make his year. You remember the first time you joined us? That beachside motel in Galveston? You rode Roman, left nail marks all down his back and arms and Dean teased you about it. He teased you because otherwise you'd have noticed how fuck-dumb Ro was from it, Jesus, he sat there for hours after you fell asleep, tracing those marks. He's always wanted you to hurt him like he needs."

She can't hold back the sound that tears out of her, a high, greedy moan that makes Seth shift in his seat and kiss her. Soft, biting, on the mouth, then down her jaw to kiss at the shell of her ear. He traces his tongue along the rim, sending her shaking where she sits and itching to climb over the gear shift to straddle him. 

"You like that idea?" Seth asks. "Let's game-plan, then. Get Ro to the hotel room, get him stripped down. Is there anything you don't feel comfortable with that's not on the list?"

"Blood," she says, reminded of the house show three nights ago when Roman accidentally busted Joe open. She feels queasy thinking about it, and Seth presses his mouth to her cheek. "Everything else you read. Weapons of any kind, whips, the heavier-duty restraints."

Seth taps at the heart on her ring finger - her and Dean's tattoo, so they can have each other when they're not allowed to wear rings - and leans his forehead against hers. "That's our boy's job. Even I'm not usually allowed to take a weapon to Roman, he doesn't trust me like Dean." He doesn't sound jealous or angry, just calm. "He might want it to be you. If Roman asks you, and if I'm there helping the entire time, do you think you could try?"

"Maybe. I . . . I don't want to say yes, and not be able to do it, and I don't want to say no and not have the chance."

"That's fine," Seth says. "I can do maybe. How do you feel about surprising our boy at home?"

She feels pretty good about it.

The negotiation helps put her down a little, eases her into less of an outright angry state of mind, because she doesn't want to hurt Roman in a bad way. Helps her be patient enough to wait for Roman to finish his match - they can hear when his music hits, hear the crowd cheering - and then shower. She'll watch the match later and realize why he couldn't wait, but she really does like the knowledge that he'll be clean for her and Seth.

Getting Roman as a blank slate, just himself, miles of that gorgeous skin and no one else's hands on it? Perfection, but at the same time, she'd be flat-out lying if she said she didn't enjoy it when her partners come to her fresh off a match. Something about the smell of sweat and baby oil and that glittering feral look in the eyes really does it for her; the sheer amount of locker room sex she and Dean have had attests to that.

Obviously she wants her husband here for this kind of thing, in person or on Facetime, but that's impossible. Seth has had a few ideas, though: pictures and videos taken by the burner phone they use, sent to the Dropbox account on Dean's computer. He starts off while they're waiting, lets Renee kiss and bite at his collarbone, snaps a picture of her lipstick peeking out of his shirt and her nails digging into him. NARS Fire Down Below and OPI Got the Blues for Red against olive skin and black tee-shirt.

They’ve just finished another shot - her hand in his hair, the bared stretch of his neck where Dean likes to bite - when the trunk opens and Roman's bag thuds into it. He climbs in the backseat, hair still dripping onto his grey tee-shirt, and Seth wolf-whistles at him.

"Mmm, smell that, Renee? Our boy only uses the Kyoku when he's gotten to rip into someone. You spear Joe's ass all over the arena for us and Dean?"

Roman looks a little dazed, lip swelling and a livid bruise wrapping around his left forearm. "Once I talked him into hurting me like he meant it. Wasn't enough."

"We got you, baby," she says, before she can even think about it. The endearment is Dean's, he uses it for Roman all the damn time, and Roman's sharp inhale tells her it was a good impulse. 

"Yeah?" he asks, a little needy and a little challenging, and she wants to climb into his lap and kiss him stupid. "You got plans?"

Seth laughs mockingly, almost his heel laugh, and reaches out to run his fingers over Renee's knuckles. "You're in luck, Ro. Since you need to be hit so bad, and Renee needs to hit something - well, that just sounds like a perfect night to me. Thoughts?"

"Fuck," Roman says, eyes going almost black in the rearview mirror.

"I mean, eventually," Seth teases, digging his thumb into the base of Renee's palm. She whines through her teeth, tries to pull her wrist out of Seth's grip, but it's locked in. "First, you're gonna record what you want into the Dean phone. Tell us - and him - what you want, and if you're good, you'll get some of it. And if you touch yourself, your punishment will be to get your own ride to the hotel, where I'm going to play with Renee without you."

"Yes, sir."

Hearing Roman call Seth that completely honestly is both unspeakably hot and a total headfuck. It's also a reminder that under her tights, she's slowly been getting wet for ages. She doesn't know if that's what she wants, yet, and the too-soft ache of it is mixed with her residual anger; something needs to *hurt* soon.

Seth hands over the phone, and pulls out of the parking garage, heading for the highway. Roman taps the screen, opens the video camera and coughs nervously a few times before she can see him hit the button to record. 

"Hey, uce. I, um, hope you saw the match, threw a couple things in there just for you. I'm in the car now - Seth's driving, your girl's shotgun - and I gotta tell you what I want from them tonight." His voice goes a little deeper, a little dreamier, eyes fluttering closed a few times. "With Seth, it's pretty simple. I want to do everything he tells me, take everything he wants me to. Be good enough for him to fuck. I, uh, really want that. We haven't fucked since you got hurt, since the last time with you. And with Nay - shit - you know how bad I want her to hurt me. Seth said he might let her hit me, and I want it. Just let her take everything out on me, put all her marks on me, cause it'd be like it was you. It would be like part of you was here with us, 'stead of in Vegas with the dog and your elbow. Cause I miss you. We all miss you. Here's, ah, here's hoping that was good enough for them."

She meets Seth's eyes in the rearview mirror, and he nods to her. She squirms around in the seat, turns and looks Roman in the eye. It's powerful, his vulnerability and hopes laid out for them, and she curls her nails into her palm with wanting to touch him. 

Accepts the phone back instead, his fingers warm against hers.

"You did good, baby," she says, and Roman's hand tightens on hers. "But I need to make it clear, I'm not him. I can't be him. I probably can't hurt you like he can. So you need to ask Seth if you need something that's past my limits, if you need blood or a whip or a cane. Understand?"

He nods. "Yes. Can - do you want me to call you something else?"

The request startles her. She's never played like that, like she was someone different. Sure, Dean is "sir" and now so is Seth sometimes, but she doesn't think she wants to be anyone different. Except Roman's looking across at her half-hopefully, and she takes a breath.

"Do you need to call me something else?"

"I might. I don't know, sometimes things just slip out."

She considers. "I'd prefer it weren't 'mommy' or 'mistress', but 'miss' is okay. If possible, use my name."

Another nod, this one slower and more heated, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. "Yes, Renee."

"Oh, you are being good," Seth remarks, making a turn, his hands skimming over the wheel. "No lip or anything. What, did Joe beat it out of you?"

"Mmmm-maybe?"

"Or is it that you're just that desperate for my dick?" 

She honestly doesn't know how Seth can do it, drive perfectly reasonably while discussing something like this. Dean does it too, they'd driven St. Louis to Kansas City once with him describing, in detail, wanting to fuck her over the bar in the crowded restaurant they'd just left. It's a hell of a talent, she's impressed, but it's not really getting to her yet. It's working on Roman, though, making him shift and flush and breathe ragged.

"That it, Ro? You haven't been opened up since Dean cuffed you to that hotel bed in Hartford and rimmed you until you cried?" Roman's hands curl into the leather of the seats, squeaking slightly, but she barely notices the sound over how he's shivering. Renee tries to bite back her whimper, but it doesn't work, and Seth gives her a quick, heated look before returning his attention to the road. "He was a fucking mess, Renee, you'd have loved it. Our boy got Ro all worked up, then fucked him halfway through the mattress. Wrecked his shit good, had him begging to suck me off. Pretty fucking awesome night all around."

She groans quietly, half out of arousal, half with relief in seeing the hotel sign a few blocks ahead. "Dean came back with the biggest bite mark on his shoulder. I thought it was you."

"Hah, I wish. No, no, that was all Roman, wasn't it, big man?" 

"Yes, sir." The pause is even more pronounced as he goes further under. "I didn't mean to bite so hard, Renee. I promise. I didn't mean any of it."

"You think I'm mad at you, baby?" she asks, and he nods. "Hell no. Looked gorgeous on him, even if I did use half a bottle of concealer covering it for that tag match."

Seth turns into the parking lot, hard-lefts into a space, and shuts the car off. Renee goes for her seatbelt, but Seth exhales hard, tightens his hand on the gear shift. "You didn't mean it, Ro?" he asks, and she can hear the warning bells in his voice. "Should I tell Dean that?"

"No," Roman blurts out, "no, I'm sorry, that's not-"

"What did you mean, then?"

"I should have asked permission, sir. That's what I meant, I swear, I- I didn't want to get Dean in trouble with Renee. I didn't want to make her mad."

She puts a hand to Seth's shoulder, so tense under her fingers it feels like stone, and rubs gently. Watches him relax in increments, achingly slow, from his legs up his core, his shoulders and arms, until finally the muscle in his jaw stops ticcing. He flicks his gaze up to the rearview mirror, Roman meeting his eyes hesitantly.

"I'm sorry," Seth says, slumping in the seat. "I . . . I heard you say you didn't mean it, and all I could hear was you that time in Vancouver and how you didn't mean it then."

Dean doesn't talk about that night two years ago in Vancouver - just after Night of Champions, a few weeks before the European tour that Seth would tear his knee on - but she knows enough to understand how bad it had gone between the three of them. Too many insecurities, not enough communication, letting the in-ring stuff get to them. Whatever went down, it scared Dean enough to fly back home and not-talk for three days.

Roman slides forward in the seat, wraps his arms around Seth's shoulders and chest, noses at his ear. Seth grabs onto Roman's hands with a death grip, his eyes closed, and Roman speaks quietly, but Renee can hear every word. 

"We fucked up in Vancouver. Said it before, I'll say it again: I forgive you. I trust you. You and Dean, ain't no one sees me like you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd personally like to thank Roman and his "HIT ME" moment with Samoa Joe for re-inspiring my love for painslut!Ro. Also, kids, don't be like the Shield, talk to your kink partners when you feel that work bullshit is invading your personal lives.


	3. Chapter 3

In the hotel room, Seth sends her into the bathroom to change - workout clothes, comfortable enough to move in - and she's standing in front of the mirror in her sports bra, her makeup smudged to hell, wondering what the hell she's doing. She doesn't have any business playing like this, not when she can't give Roman what he needs, not when part of her keeps resisting Seth. She's just going to disappoint them, and then she'll have to tell Dean how and why she fucked things up with his two brothers.

Her phone is in her hand, and she flicks on the camera before she can question it. Just needs to talk it out, even if he's not there.

"Baby, hey. I'm - I'm sort of freaking out here. I'm at the hotel, we're about to start the scene, and I'm doing that thing you hate. Where I start thinking I'm going to ruin everything, and I push back, and I tell you I'm not worth it. Except you're not here. God, why the fuck can't this be at a better time?" 

She's pacing and stalling, realizes it as she hears a knock on the door and Seth calling her name. She yells through the door that she'll be right out, and she looks back into the camera.

"Fuck. All right, baby, I know what you'd do and tell me if you were here. Probably pick me up and throw me over your shoulder, even though I hate it. You'd slap my ass and tell me that you love me even when I'm a trainwreck, cause I'm never gonna be a bigger wreck than you. And that I need this. I know I do. I can do this. I . . . I’m gonna do this, and I'm gonna blow your boys' minds. Love you."

Hits send and tucks the phone back in her purse before washing and drying her face and opening the door. Seth's shirtless and barefoot in his workout pants, hair tied back, and the once-over he gives her is pretty thorough. Even if she's only in one of Dean's old Metallica shirts and leggings, makeup scrubbed off, it's nice to be appreciated. She gets about halfway through the doorway before she spots Roman, who - god, that's beautiful. She never really gets over how beautiful he is, especially not when she's seeing him on his knees for the first time. 

He's stripped down to his boxer-briefs, clothes in a pile next to him, and his hair curtains his face. She wants to take her time to look at him, because before it's been fast and fun or Dean directing, she's never just gazed. And there's a lot to gaze at; his toes curling underneath him, his smooth calves and thick thighs, slight curve of his belly, fucking lush curve of his ass, that broad chest and tattooed arm, the set of his mouth in the dark of his beard. 

"Seth, let me have the Dean phone. I want to get a 'before' shot. Before I rip him up."

Roman moans, and she gets the perfect shot - his head tipping back, hair spilling like ink down his shoulders, muscles in his belly and thighs tensing. Sends it off with the message "almost feel bad wrecking this", and sets her purse down by the closet, circles back around to Roman and Seth. 

"Nice," Seth comments, "I think our boy will appreciate that one. Let's talk strategy, yeah? Tell me how I can take you under, so we can give Roman what he needs."

She rolls her shoulders back, works out some of the tightness in her neck. "It's . . . Dean doesn't do it the same every time. He just knows, does that freaky mindreading shit of his."

"I know that. I'm not asking about _him_ , Renee, I'm asking how it works on your end. Is there something that helps you in particular? Talking, not-talking, physical contact, words or phrases..."

"Don't talk," she says flatly, stepping between Roman and Seth, needs to do something with her hands and the best thing she can think of is to curl fingers in Roman's hair. He's touchy about it, she remembers Dean telling her, totally fine when he's under and likely to punch you for it when he's not. Right now, he just moans prettily, arching up into her grip. "Not - I mean, you can talk to give me orders. I need that. I need you to tell me what to do. But don't try to be sweet or nice, talking me into it, telling me I'm good. Don't wanna be good. Just tell me what we're going to do to him."

Seth steps back, considering. She tries not to twist her hand, doesn't want to start on Roman until Seth tells her, and she's concentrating so hard that Seth's hand on her chin, tipping it up, makes her flinch before she looks up at him.

"Okay, then. You want it like this, then we'll do this. You're going to hit Roman the way I let you hit Roman. Hold out your hands and keep your mouth shut."

It's an effort, but she bites back her questions and lets go of Roman's hair. His face is still tilted up, and he watches silently as Renee holds her hands out to Seth, as surprised as she is when Seth holds up a handwrap. She's watched Dean and some of the other guys while they taped up their hands, but never worn them herself.

"Don't move your wrist, flex and make a fist when I tell you, and if it feels too tight or even just a little too loose, tap my arm and let me know."

Seth's hands are methodical as he wraps her right hand first. Three around the wrist, three around her palm, flip her hand over, down between her thumb and index finger, then across her palm again. He motions for her to make a fist, flex it a few times, then continues - flip again, between each finger, around her palm, up across her knuckles twice, then finishes up the rest of the wrap in an x-pattern before securing the velcro. 

He reaches out for her left hand to wrap, and the repetitive motions soothe her. Put her in the zone, the way she's seen the boys calm and focus and change their posture from themselves to fight-mode. Everything feels narrowed down to her hands and Seth's. Her left hand feels a little tight, and she taps Seth's shoulder, shows him that her little finger is getting crushed. He mutters "sorry", and fixes the tape, crossing it over her palm and wrists exactly like the first one.

"Feel okay?" he asks, and she tries striking her left palm with her right fist, testing the impact. Everything feels so secure and heavy, like she could just keep punching, and she nods. Seth holds up a hair tie. "I'm going to put your hair up. It'll be best if it's not in your face."

Turning her back to him suddenly feels incredibly vulnerable. She's the one with taped fists, she's the one that's going to be hitting Roman, but her neck feels chilled and she shivers as he gathers her hair into a low ponytail. "Why'd you wrap the part near my thumbs?" she asks, to try and cover the nerves. "Dean doesn't do his."

"Well, he has a lot more training than you do. And he broke his thumb, like, the first time he let the trainers wrap it. It was sticking out a little low from his fist, went for a punch and felt the joint pop when he connected." 

"When was that?"

"2012?" Seth answers, but Roman shakes his head and holds up three fingers. "'13, right, just after the match with Van Dam. Stiff fucker, got on Dean's case for not throwing harder hands."

She's sure it should bother her that her husband apparently broke a finger in a match and never told anyone - he was US champ, they might have stripped the belt from him, and the elbow surgery has proven just how terrible he is at dealing with injuries - but the weight on her hands and her hair bobbing behind her are a reminder she's got a job to do. Seth taps her arm, motions for her to take a step back, and it puts him back between her and Roman.

"You've gone to the gym with Dean, right?" She nods, and he widens the gap between them. "Good. Throw three punches at my hand. Soft, medium, and the hardest you can fucking throw. Need to gauge your strength." The first two barely move Seth's palm, just the thwack of skin, but the third, with all her weight behind it, makes Seth grunt and shake his hand out. "Shit, that was good. Okay, give me a medium punch to my hand, a light jab to my face, then another hard one to my shoulder."

Hand, face - mmm, that's a satisfying sight, making Seth's head snap back, his jaw working - and then shoulder, backing him up a little. She can hear Roman's breathing pick up, and she and Seth exchange grins. 

"All right, Ro," Seth says, reaching over to slap Roman's face. Not hard, enough to make him focus, and Seth winds a hand in his hair and turns his head to look at Renee. "This is where you take what Renee and I give you. Every time she hits you, I want you to thank her for what she's doing. Understand?"

"Yes, sir. Yes, miss."

Seth keeps hold of Roman, but also wraps his hand around Renee's left wrist. "You hear either of us say 'foxtrot' or if Ro taps out, this stops immediately. If you need to do the same, you do it. Camera might be on and I might be taking pictures at any time. We good?"

"We're good," she says, unable to take her eyes off Roman. 

Her head snaps up at the sound of the camera, and Seth flips the phone around to show her: herself side-on, fist clenched, the white tape stark against her black tee, eyes harder than she's ever seen herself look. She doesn't even think she looks like herself right now. 

"We're gonna start him off easy,” Seth says, rolling and stretching his shoulders out.”If it were up to him, he'd start right from punches, hard as we can give him, and he'd like it too much.”

“But I can hit him?” she asks, again, and Seth snaps off a couple punches himself before turning back to Renee.

“Yes. You choose where to hit him, unless I give you a yellow or red, and you choose if it's a slap, a punch, or your nails. You remember those, don't you, Ro?” The only answer is Roman whining through his teeth, and Seth picks up the phone, sits down on the bed with it. “Thought so. You get them only if Renee wants it. It's all up to her. I’ll only stop you both if I think it’s too much."

She bounces a little on the balls of her feet, working out her leg muscles, settling into the motions she’s seen Dean do. Repetitive, rhythmic, right-left-right-left, then an open-palmed slap to Roman’s face, only hard enough to hear the crack.

“Ah, fuck, thank you Renee.”

The next one, she thinks, should be a little harder. Right across the mouth, those full lips of his, and his thanks is lost in the noise he makes. The groan that leaves Roman’s mouth should be illegal, full-voiced and filthy, his dick jerking in the briefs, and Seth laughs softly on the bed across from them. Snaps a photo of her mid-slap - this one to Roman’s jaw, softer, and Roman’s voice is softer too as he thanks her - and jerks his head toward Roman.

“Don’t you fucking dare, get your hand away from your dick,” he snaps, and Renee follows it up with a hard cuff to the back of Roman’s head. Another low, filthy groan (“Jesus, thank you, thank you”), but he moves his hand, keeps them both by his sides. “Nay, don’t give him something hard after he misbehaves. Mixing your signals, unless you *want* him to jerk off while you’re doing this.”

“No,” she snaps, and Roman’s curse is low and desperate. She circles him, almost around to his back, then back again, two steps to her left and then a slap to one of the bruises on his chest he nearly forgets to thank her for. Another three blows, a scratch to his mid-back that she really likes the look of, and another punch she doesn’t hear him speak after. “What was that, Roman?”

“Fucking hell, thank you, I said it-”

Dean’s voice is suddenly in her head - a really, really fucking gorgeous session they’d had in Miami, fucked up on tequila and him spanking her out on the balcony of their hotel room - reminding her of what Roman’s trying to pull. She grips Roman’s hair, jerks it back far enough to bend him almost in an arch, and crouches by his head. 

“Saying it and meaning it are two different things, baby.” She can’t help the little drawl she puts on, mimicking her husband. Roman shakes, eyes wide and breath coming thick in his throat, and Seth palms his dick over on the bed, sinister little smile on his face. “I don’t think you really meant that one. Try that shit again. Do it right, or I’ll stop.”

Roman doesn’t take his eyes off her, shoulders rising and falling with how quick his breath is coming. “I’m sorry, miss, thank you so much, miss. Thank you for giving me this.”

Quiet click of the camera, and she lets go of Roman’s hair and turns to Seth. “Good call, he’ll definitely like that one. He fucking loves pulling hair.”

“Don’t I fucking know it, all those promos about ripping my hair out,” Seth says, grinning. “Check in with me, you two. Color and requests.”

Renee takes a breath, shoves down the impulse to swing at Roman again. “Green. Sure you don’t want to get in on this?”

“In a sec. Ro?”

“Green,” he slurs, head hanging low, shifting on his knees to sit back on his heels. “Green, I’m good, I want more.”

So she gives it to him, interspersed with him thanking her, and those pretty noises he makes. Seth makes a few suggestions, including a solid jab to Roman’s jaw that he jerks full-body for. She works herself into a solid rhythm, jabs and rights and a wicked cross she’s never been able to land before. Every time her fists make contact, the impact jars her arms, but she feels a comforting solidity from the handwraps. A hand waves in her peripheral vision, and she backs off for a minute.

Seth gets up, crosses to Roman and grabs his chin, tips his head up. There’s a bruise darkening on his left cheekbone, and it takes her a sudden, startled few moments to realize _I did that_. She’d let her anger out and left a mark on Roman, curled her hand into a fist and connected with his face. 

“Nice work,” Seth says, studying the bruise, pressing on it with careful, methodical fingers. Roman winces, then leans into it, and she shivers to see it. “Uce, you need to tell me what kind of more you need. More blows or more pain?”

“I - fuck, I thought I got it out in the ring. Joe hit me a lot, it was good and it worked, but I, mmm, I need more. Pain, please. Can - can I have the cane?”

“You sure?” 

“Please, sir, I need it. I - I trust you. You’ve caned me when Dean was here. I need it, I need you and Renee to do it.”

Her brain feels like it’s stuttered; Roman wants - no, needs - _what_? Needs her and Seth? Seth’s caned Roman before, and if Seth’s caned Roman, Dean sure as hell has too. She imagines the clean lines of Dean’s body mid-swing, feels her mouth go dry. And she might be able to do it too?

She wants it more desperately than she thinks she’s wanted anything in recent memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is your weekly reminder that if you're doing kink with people, negotiation and safewords are your friends, because not everyone has a Seth to play referee. Further kink upcoming, please check the tags to be sure you're okay with it.


	4. Chapter 4

Seth orders Roman to lose the briefs, put his hair up, and drink at least a glass of water before they continue, which is incredibly distracting to Renee. She feels she can’t be blamed for staring at the six-foot-three naked Samoan, covered in sweat and slowly-forming bruises, his throat working and that perfect ass there for the grabbing, but Seth calmly takes hold of her wrists and begins unwrapping the tape from her hands.

“Hey, why are-?”

“Caning requires control of your hands and wrists,” he explains, unrolling her left hand first, working his thumbs into her palm to ease the tension. “Even if you don’t give him more than a few strokes, I want you to have range of motion. Also, we’ll all feel like shit if you accidentally hit him too hard.”

She feels slightly stupid for asking, but Dean usually tells her there are no stupid questions when it comes to kink. “Isn’t that what he wants?”

“Do you want to break a bone? Or cause internal bleeding? Because that’s what happens if you go too hard with a fiberglass cane. We use rattan in the ring, it’s much bendier.” Seth’s voice is matter-of-fact, but his eyes are soft as he switches hands. She shakes her head, working the stiffness out of her left wrist. “He can take ten, and only ten. I’m going to do the first two strokes to demonstrate. I’ll let you take the third and fourth with my hands guiding yours. The rest, however many you feel comfortable giving, are yours to give him, except for the last, which is mine.”

The wrap unrolls from her right wrist, and his hands are back on hers, massaging her palm. It’s good, comforting - it feels right for this in-between place she’s in right now. She nods up at Seth. “I think I can do that.”

“Good girl,” he says, and she aches for the sound of it, panties soaking through. He looks like he knows, can smell it on her, and steps closer to her, still holding her hands. Tugs her into the heat of his body, dips his head to kiss her shallow and sweet, and his next words come hot against her lips. “Dean uses a crop on you sometimes, doesn’t he? I saw it in the bag. If you tell me green, I’ll use it on you. If you tell me yellow, we’ll try my hands instead. If you tell me red, we stop.”

Fuck, fuck, this is a lot, all at once. Learning how to hurt Roman. Being touched by Seth. Thinking about how Dean makes her absolutely lose it with the crop. Possibly having all of that consecutively. Her impulse is to back off, because that’s what she’d do nine times out of ten. The crop is only for very rare nights - but then again, what is this? This is something that she’s not likely to be able to repeat, and that little vestige of Dean’s voice in her head tells her she’ll always wonder if she gives it up.

She runs hands through her hair, takes a step back and exhales long and slow. Thinks of the last time she and Dean had played, his hands holding her securely in place, that boyish little smile when she told him she could take it. 

“Green,” she breathes, and her knees almost go as Seth kisses her like he means it. Hard and demanding, his teeth nipping at her lower lip, his tongue licking into her mouth. He pulls back, his hands - shorter, squarer than Dean’s, callouses in different places - stroking up and down her hips.

“You got it, gorgeous. You ready to start on Roman?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Shirt and leggings off. You can strip entirely if you want, but you’ve got to lose a layer if you want the crop.”

She strips out of the shirt and leggings, but leaves the sports bra and panties on. Seth retrieves a varnished cane - ivory-colored shaft, with a black handle - from one of his bags, along with the familiar black and red crop Dean had put into her luggage. He takes a few practice swings with both toys, whipping the cane through the air to strike a pillow and then showing off with the crop. Tests it against his palm a few times, then turns around to where Roman’s standing at parade rest, his hands folded across his groin and legs spread.

“Color, Ro?”

“Green, sir. Green, miss.”

“Yeah, that’s right, you better thank Renee too. Nay, can you put the crop on the bed for me and bring the camera? I think our boy would want a full and detailed view of this.”

She does what he asks, folds out the stand for the camera and sets it on the dresser so that it has a good view of the scene. Starts recording a little bit of the setup - Dean loves negotiation and aftercare and the process almost as much as the scene itself.

“Safeword?” It’s a low mumble, but she can make out ‘foxtrot’. Seth runs his hands over Roman’s shoulders and arms, stepping closer to murmur to Roman. “Being so fucking good for us, baby. We’re gonna take such good care of you. I’ve got the fiberglass cane for you, and we’re going to give you ten strokes. What do you say?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“Good boy. Are you going to keep your mouth closed while we give you your reward?”

“No, sir. Gotta let you hear me.”

“You got it. Tell Dean your words and then turn around.”

She watches Roman lift his head to look at the phone. “Foxtrot to stop. Thank you, sir. Thank you for letting me have this, for sharing Seth and Renee. Love you.”

He turns around, and Seth catches her eye. “Where are my limits for you with the crop? I know no blood or lasting marks, but where’s good to strike?”

“Dean usually hits my ass, but sometimes, he-” And she has to stop, it’s so ridiculous, she can say the words, but this is to Seth and it’s on camera. “He hit my tits once. And my thighs. I couldn’t take too much of it there, so I - I need you to think yellow for that area.”

“Absolutely. Hey Deano,” he says into the camera, “I’m imagining you leaving little crop marks on her tits, and her at work with them under her clothes, and I am really fucking jealous. Of who, I couldn’t tell you, but goddamn. Also, not sure any of us will be able to film once we’re into it, so here, you wanna watch this.”

Seth circles back around Roman, and the cane makes a high, swishing sound as Seth brings it across Roman’s ass. Roman absolutely *howls* as the stripe forms right across the lower curve of his ass, her mouth is dry watching it. Seth counts under his breath, she can’t hear how long, but steps backward and swings again, this time high across Roman’s back, and that motion she’s seen before. Watched the boys in the ring taking cane or belt shots, backs arched and trying not to scream. 

Roman shouts now, desperate and hungry, and Seth steps back in front of the camera.“We’re gonna do a bunch more, me and your girl here. Maybe once you heal up, we can show you just how good we are at this. You think about that, huh?”

He shuts off the recording and sends it, then holds the cane out with his hand in the middle. Guides her hand onto the handle, and takes a batter-up stance behind her. 

“Two practice swings, a few taps to let Roman get warmed up, then the two strokes. We want parallel lines, got it? No crossing, so keep your swing straight. You’re aiming for just above or below where you’ve just hit.”

“Yes, sir.”

“He can’t talk too much during this,” Seth adds. “I’ll need to keep a close eye on him, make sure he’s not tensing up at the wrong time. So you may not hear verbal consent checks, but I’ll be doing other things.”

The handle is cool in her hands, Seth’s body against hers is like a furnace, and if she looks at Roman for too long, she’s going to start to salivate. This is going to be incredibly intense, and she’s going to enjoy the hell out of it. Seth guides her into the practice swings against the pillow, and she can feel where her muscles need to go. 

He takes the cane in their hands and traces very deliberately across Roman’s thigh, moves it up to the crease of his ass. Lets Roman work a full-body shiver out, low cry bursting out of his mouth. 

“This is our first zone. Very very light work here, just taps. The crease is his sweet spot, but it’s not for us. That’s for Dean, it’s his property. Probably tattoo his initials there if Ro would let him.” Seth moves the cane up, tapping solidly on the flat of Roman’s ass. Marking up to the upper curve of it, while Roman makes soft, needy little cries. “This is our second zone. All good. He can take it harder here, I’ll show you what kind of strength and speed you can use. Ro, baby, talk to us.”

“Please, please, please, green, please more please fuck-” All in a stream from him, barely a breath to pause, except for the high whimper that escapes when Seth has them tap the cane warningly against his ass.

“Breathe, Ro. We’re doing this at my pace. Breathe and take it, okay?” Roman nods, hazy, fine little shivers running over him, and Renee practically aches to touch him. She realizes she’s sort of grinding against Seth, and he laughs a little. “You’re liking this, aren’t you, gorgeous? Can’t blame you, Ro’s pretty fucking spectacular. Don’t worry, I’ve got you. You worry about him.”

He lets her go while he picks up the crop. Swishes it quickly over the welts the second swing left on Roman’s back, and Roman’s breath sounds like it’s been punched out of him. Harsh and desperate, and Seth sketches out a quick boundary between Roman’s mid-back and his shoulders. 

“On the back, only between here and here. Stay away from the lower back and neck, and try not to get too near the armpits. Flat of the back is the best, though we run the ropes so much you’ll need a harder swing to get him to feel it. Ready to try?”

“Yeah.” 

She can’t get anything else out, feels like her mouth is stuck and her head is full of air, and doesn’t really know - Oh. Oh… this is a very different sort of headspace than she feels with Dean. With him, it’s kind of like really pleasant drowning, overwhelming and comforting. This is more like flying, like she’s a jet on autopilot.

Seth’s put the crop down and taken up stance behind her again, adjusting her grip on the handle of the cane. “Back again, one stripe just underneath the first. Medium strength.”

With Seth guiding her, she swings and lays a single stripe about an inch under the existing welt on Roman’s back. She goes to pull away, but Seth keeps her hands still, keeps the cane lying against Roman’s skin. 

“When you cane someone, don’t pull away. Pulling away too fast is just painful, but when you keep the cane there, it makes everything spread out all hot and sweet.”

“Have you-?” she starts to ask.

“Babe, everyone who’s stepped in a ring has been caned. Not everybody likes it. But me and Roman and Dean - we fucking love it. So when you take your next swing, let it land and let it stay there. Count to ten, then draw back slow. Got it?”

She nods, and he lets her go carefully, holding up a hand to keep her in position. Crosses around to Roman’s front and tilts Roman’s face up. 

“Hey there, champ,” he murmurs, low and sweet, and Roman groans weakly. “We good? Here, my hand’s touching yours. Squeeze once if we’re good, twice if you want to tap.”

The muscles in Roman’s arm flex once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Editing went fast this week due to Roman deciding to indulge in handcuff kink on national television. We're all appreciative. ;)


	5. Chapter 5

Renee’s shifting her weight, wishing she could pace instead of staying where Seth’s put her. She’s feeling kind of restless, wants to go harder, do more - it’s something she feels when it’s been a long scene. She’s never been good at them, and her head snaps up when Seth speaks up.

“We’re gonna do one more stroke with me guiding you, and then it’s all you. Every mark you leave on Roman, I’m going to leave one on you with that crop. All right?”

“What if I can’t do any?” she asks, a little hesitant. “Will I be punished?”

“Is this your way of telling me you _don’t_ want it?” Seth says, smirking. “Ain’t gotta tell me that, that’s one thing Dean’s told us. How you like to bargain for punishment. We’ll see what happens, and what I feel like giving you. Focus back on Ro, okay?”

She’ll be irked at her husband later, telling his boys about their sex life when he hasn’t said a word to her about them. Right now, she’s buzzing with energy, wanting to know what it feels like to cane Roman by herself. She takes one last practice swing with the cane, and feels Seth come up behind her, wrap his hands around hers. Feels caged-in, but in the good way, and the way this is going, she’s already planning on trying this out with Dean.

“Let’s do a hard one on his back,” Seth says quietly, guiding her to tap the cane against Roman’s ass. Another two to his back, one to his thighs. “We’ll give him the strike, and then we need to do another check-in, okay? Sometimes he thinks he can take more than he actually can.”

“Oh, only sometimes?”

“Brat. Swing in three, two, one-”

Renee feels the difference in the blow immediately. It’s much harder than she would have dared on her own, placed right across the span of Roman’s back. The crack echoes in the hotel room, but Roman’s shout is louder, and Seth tosses the cane onto the bed before he moves around in front of Roman. Her knees are starting to feel like jelly, but she makes it to Roman’s side, reaching for his hand.

“Give me a color,” Seth urges, pushing Roman’s hair back and tilting his head up. He’s a wreck, teartracks down his face, eyes hazy, breath coming shallow and pained. “Come on, Ro, look at me, tell me where you’re at.”

“Green,” Roman finally gets out, death grip on Renee’s hands. He leans forward, rests his head against Seth’s. “Green. More.”

Seth makes a negating sound, stroking Roman’s hair back. “You’re too tense, baby. I know you want it, but you’re almost hurting Renee the way you’re holding her hands.”

Roman flinches as he releases her hands, and she curls closer to him, kissing at the corner of his eye. “It’s all right, you’re all right. You didn’t hurt me.”

“Relax, okay?” Seth coaxes. “Remember how Dean does it, how you gotta breathe even when it’s hard? You haven’t been taking deep breaths. In for five with me now. One...two...”

Slowly, with three more repetitions of the deep breaths, Roman starts to relax, tension sloughing off his shoulders. Renee rubs softly at his neck with her thumbs, Seth clocking the changes in Roman’s body language, and it’s a few minutes before he nods at her. 

“Okay, Roman, you’re getting two more, and then we’re lying down and cuddling the shit out of you. Renee, any aftercare requests or issues?”

“Can we not do the crop? I wanted it before, but I’m feeling sort of weird and cuddling sounds awesome.”

“That’s like, the opposite of a problem. Still want to try one strike on your own?”

“Yeah, I want to. Can I try now?”

Seth nods at the cane lying on the bed. “Go ahead. I’m going to stay here, he’s under pretty good and he usually needs someone by his head when he’s in subspace. Right, champ? Come on, stay with us, keep your feet under you. Two more.”

She’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel nervous, picking up the cane on her own, feeling the weight of it in her hands. Turning to study Roman’s back and ass, the welts that are already there, that she’s helped put there. Deciding where she wants to strike - a relatively “safe” stretch of his upper back, delineated by two of Seth’s earlier strokes - and measuring her strike. 

Seth’s voice startles her a little, soft as it is. “You can give him some taps to get a feel for the target. Ease him back into it. Start soft, ramp it up when you see him arching into it.”

Weird, tunnel-vision as she taps Roman’s upper back, she can hear the excited in-out whimpering breaths he’s taking, Seth’s voice urging him to breathe deep, the swish of the cane through the air. A little harder, about an inch lower, and Roman makes a soft cry that’s her cue to take the swing for real.

It’s fucking beautiful, the swish and crack, the livid red stripe that appears, the sound Roman makes. She thinks she likes his noises the most, that whimper he does when he feels the cane begin to tap, his rough shouts for the blows, the deep groan as she keeps the cane pressed to him and lets the pain radiate out. Seth’s murmuring to Roman under his breath, and Renee slowly takes the cane away, watches as Seth holds out his hand for it. 

He pulls her over, has her take his place holding Roman’s hands and soothing him, but taps her side to get her attention. “Don’t let go when I give him the last one. He’s going to try to jerk his hands away, twist away, and you can’t let him. I don’t want to hit anything besides his back, and if he moves at the wrong time, I might.”

“I won’t let him go anywhere,” she says, feels Roman’s hands shaking in hers. It’s a headtrip, solid, steady Roman shaking in pleasure, and she kisses his cheek. “Right, baby? You’re gonna be good for me and Seth, take one more strike for us.”

He’s so far past words right now that his answer is only a short groan, but it counts. 

Roman’s hands are clammy and shaking in hers, and she’s never seen his eyes look so blown-out, not even for a legit concussion. She doesn’t play as hard as the boys, it’s true, but she knows what subspace looks like, and Seth had been right about how far down Roman is. 

“Hey gorgeous,” she murmurs as Seth begins tracing the cane up Roman’s thighs, “you’re doing so good. I love that you’re letting me see this. Give me another deep breath, okay? In for five - two, three, four, five - and out.” 

“Brace,” Seth whispers to her, and she steadies herself. There’s no way she’ll be able to hold Roman up, but she can be something solid and present.

The crack of the last strike rings out - she can’t even see where Seth landed it - and Roman does what she’d been warned about, howls and tries to jerk away. She holds him as tight as she possibly can, her hands wrapped around his forearms, a foot between his to keep him from stepping away. Seth’s kept the cane pressed to him for a twenty-count, and she can feel the way the sensations from the blow have changed. First pain, him jerking away, then intense pleasure, Roman growling low in his throat and arching into it. She hears the cane thud gently onto the carpet as Seth drops it, and he ducks under Roman’s left arm to support what’s rapidly becoming a lot of Roman’s weight. 

“Hey, hey, come on, let’s get you horizontal, okay? Need you to step forward three times for me.” Seth guides Roman to the bed, keeping him upright and walking mostly straight forward, and Renee keeps a hand on Roman’s right arm. “One more step . . . you’re there, down onto the bed.”

Roman sinks onto the bed with a soft cry, and Seth swipes at the duffel bag he’d pulled the cane out of earlier. Comes up with a bottle of lotion, a bottle of water, and a bag of individually-wrapped chocolates, and Renee recognizes the brand from a bag Dean had brought her from New Mexico.

“Renee, you want to play teddy bear or masseuse?” Seth asks, holding up the choices.

“I vote teddy bear. I need a fucking hug and some chocolate myself.”

“Well, jeez, all you had to do was ask,” Seth says, tossing her the bag and then catching her around the waist. Pulls her close, kisses the top of her head and murmurs “you did good, babe”, and gently nudges her over to Roman. “Water first, then only a couple pieces of the chocolate. Mostly just hold him and let him cry if he needs to. It’s not usual, but he hasn’t asked for a cane in a while.”

She uncaps the bottle, and thankfully, Roman’s stayed on hands and knees to drink. He gets half of it down, slowly, with Renee stroking his hair back and reminding him to stop for breath, and then she eases him down onto his stomach to rest. He always runs hot, but as she curls up carefully beside him, edging under his right arm, he feels like a furnace. 

“You were so fucking good for us, baby,” she murmurs, and Roman makes a soft groan into her hair. She gets her left hand under the pillow and curls it around Roman’s neck, pressing down gently. Some of his weight relaxes against her, and it's so good, so warm. “Fucking gorgeous, I’ve never seen anyone take it so well. Dean’s gonna be so proud of you when we tell him, when we show him, what you did.”

Seth kneels at Roman’s other side, squirting lotion on his hands, and as he places his hands on the highest of the welts, Roman lets out a low, hoarse cry. 

“Easy,” Seth says, spreading the lotion gently, working it into Roman’s skin with practiced, careful motions, “you know you’ll feel better once this is on. Listen to our girl, okay, let her spoil you.”

She’s not entirely sure what she’s saying, but since it’s not registering with Roman beyond a tone and a presence, it doesn’t matter. She keeps talking, though, tells him he’s good, he’s sweet, he’s fucking amazing, she can’t believe how well he takes it, she’s so envious Dean’s gotten to see so much of this, and when he’s calmer, breathing deep and even, she feeds him one of the chocolates. Kisses the corner of his mouth, on impulse, and he gives her the sweetest smile.

It helps, it’s nice to see, but there’s still the anger burning under her skin. Still there. She can be calm, she swears she can. She can concentrate on Roman, on stroking his hair, his face, on getting him back to himself, the solidity of her legs against his and the press of his chest on every breath. She can try not to shiver when his beard and tongue and lips brush against her hand. She can raise her head and see Seth, working his way down Roman’s back, his hands occasionally grazing her skin. 

“Game plan, architect?” she asks quietly, turning onto her back to look up at Seth.

He’s down by Roman’s ass at this point, working the vanilla-scented lotion into Roman’s skin, which is causing those gorgeous pain-pleasure noises to start up again. It’s very different, being pinned under him and feeling his chest vibrate against her, than it was to simply enjoy the sounds as they caned him. Seth looks up at them - there’s an expression on his face she can’t name, almost guilty and almost amused and kind of neither - and his smile cuts sharp and sudden across his face.

“Up to you, really. I promised Roman something, didn’t I?” It’s not like she’d forgotten, but Roman’s moan and full-body shiver really remind her how hot she finds the idea of watching Seth fuck Roman. “I don’t like breaking my promises, and he’s been really fucking good for us, right?”

“Yeah,” she breathes, and she can’t help the reflexive grind of her hips into Roman’s side. Realizes, for the first time in what seems like hours, just how wet and aching she is, her panties soaked through. “Oh _fuck_ , yeah,” she groans, and Roman picks his head up.

“Lemme fuck you,” he says, and his voice is a low slurring wreck, but his eyes are more focused than they've been since the arena.

She rocks up deliberately against him, fingers curling in his hair, and the drag of wet cotton against her clit has her dizzy. “While Seth fucks you? Ambitious, baby.”

“I’m good, I’m back in my head. Want you both. Please, please let me? Mmmm, Renee, please, you feel so fucking wet.” Roman presses his mouth to hers, shifting his weight to slide a hand down her side, pulling her closer, spreading his fingers out to cover her entire hip. “Wet and hot and still fucking pissed, right? I know, I know you need something to hurt. Let me fuck you until it hurts, sweetheart.”

She can’t turn that down.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay gang, two chapters to go. One mostly filth, and the other aftercare/fluff, so adjust your expectations accordingly. Thanks for taking the ride through mostly-kink to get to the porn, if you were waiting for that. Here's your reward.

Seth has been laying out supplies on the bedside table, where they’ll be in easy reach. Condoms, lube, and water, of course, but he’s also got a cock ring there too. She raises an eyebrow at him, because he’s apparently been going through her toybag, and he just shrugs.

She grabs Seth’s wrist, drags him down to kneel beside her where she’s still pinned under Roman, and she wants to yell at him, but she wants to kiss him more. So she does, puts into it her satisfaction at helping him top Roman and the want simmering in her veins. He makes the sweetest, sharpest moan, licks into her mouth and bites slow and lush at her lower lip. Her nails curl into Roman’s bicep, and he laughs softly, nudges both of them to kiss him too.

“Mmm, c’mon Ro,” Seth groans, “we need her naked, right?”

Roman eases himself back to his knees, wincing a little, but it’s lost in the heat of his gaze on her lying there. “Yeah, that’s gonna happen. I go high, you go low?”

“Hah, always,” Seth responds. 

She’d ask, but their hands (and mouths, oh wow) are already on her. Roman’s got a hand on each side of her sports bra, stripping it off in one motion, and as soon as it clears her head, he cradles her head and kisses her. This kiss isn’t as soft as earlier, or as biting as Seth’s had been, it’s more desperate. Seth’s mouth, meanwhile, is pressing wet kisses to her belly as he tugs her panties down, murmuring filth every chance he gets.

“Motherfucking hell, Renee, you smell fucking amazing, oh my god. Ah, sorry, I won’t tickle you, let me - let me just taste you, okay? I fucking hate our boy keeping this all to himself, mmmm, can I eat you out for a while?” 

She pulls her mouth away from Roman’s, and gulps air. “Yes, fucking yes please,” she says, and places Roman’s hands on her tits. “Ro, you can touch me while he does.”

Roman shifts up and turns her slightly, gets her back to his chest, and Seth lies down at the bottom of the bed between her legs. The muscles in her thighs are trembling, already, and Seth smiles at her, kisses her gently on one thigh as he spreads her open. Her back arches as the cool air hits her pussy, as Roman’s hands cup and squeeze her breasts, rolling the tips of her nipples between his fingers.

It’s as overwhelming now as it was all those years ago - four this January, from the first time she’d ever joined them - and they’ve done this enough times to know what she likes. So Seth doesn’t just dive in; he works his tongue over her clit, bites gently at her thighs, teases her with it. Makes her restless and desperate. Roman kisses her neck, leaves a mark just below her ear she’s going to need to cover up tomorrow, and goes for another one on her collarbone. She almost jacknifes from Seth slowly working fingers into her, again from Roman bending to put his mouth to her tits. He licks and sucks at her skin, and she’s going crazy from their mouths, crying out and letting her nails start to dig into Roman’s arms and drag down. She goes for his back, too, knows precisely where to scratch that'll be covered by Roman's vest.

“Fuck, fuck, yes _please_ please fucking do that,” he babbles, and Seth sucking gently at her clit has her doing it harder. “So fucking good, babygirl, want you to come on his mouth. You gonna do that, ah Jesus yeah, do that soon for us? Get him wet so I can pound you into this fucking mattress, come on, *fuck*.”

Seth groans against her pussy, the vibrations make her mouth open in a silent scream, and she’s shuddering over the edge before she really knows what’s hit her. They’re drawing out the aftershocks, too, breathing hot and then cool against her heated skin, nipping and rubbing their beards against too-sensitive places - fuck, she’s going to have the worst case of beard burn from Seth. Worse than Dean’s, potentially, and she knows how competitive he’ll get. 

“Still tastes fucking sweet, Ro,” Seth says, beckoning to Roman, who leans down for a messy kiss. They’re swapping the taste of her between them, and she curls a hand in Seth’s hair, pushes him back to where he was, because she still wants more.

Possibly, that was a mistake, she realizes, because he goes after her like he’s been starved. Fucking her open on two fingers, mouth fastened to her clit, beard rubbing against her thighs, and her head drops back against Roman’s chest. He bites sharp at her shoulder, perfect imprint of teeth, and drags his hands up her sides to pinch her tits again.

“He’s right,” Roman growls against her skin, “you still taste so fucking sweet, Renee. Remember that time in Omaha, Dean wouldn’t let Seth come until he’d eaten you out perfect? That boy was wet from collar to eyebrows from you, and you still weren’t satisfied. You should’ve told us.”

“Told . . . told you what?” she gasps, can’t catch her breath for the way Seth’s working her over.

“That you needed to be fucked. Took us a whole round to get it out of you.”

“Mmmmm but you were blowing Dean. It was so hot. Didn’t wanna interrupt.”

“Baby _girl_. Ain’t gotta worry, you can see that whenever you want.” Roman purrs. 

He lazily reaches out for the phone on the table. Snaps a shot of a wet-mouthed Seth pressing kisses to her shaking thighs and opens up the camera roll. Goes back a few months and pulls up a shot, holds it out to show her. Her husband looks absolutely illegal, bare-chested, with his jeans around his thighs, holding Roman’s head in place. Dean’s expression borders on the transcendent, and if it felt half as good as Seth’s mouth does now, she can understand why.

“You’re getting me a personal sexy Dropbox, too,” she says, and Roman laughs.

Seth does too, vibrations shooting through her cunt. Her hand scrambles on the sheets and she finally gives in to the urge to grab Seth by the hair. He doesn’t enjoy pulling like Roman does, but the growl he gives her in response combined with the curl of his fingers inside her is more than enough to tip her over the edge into her second climax. She opens her eyes to Seth rolling a condom on Roman, though really, it’s an excuse to grope him and jack him off for a while. She enjoys the hell out of the show, the way Roman is lazily fucking Seth’s fist, the fresh sheen of sweat that’s broken out on him. Not to mention Seth’s free hand being down his own pants, touching himself.

“Hey uce, our girl’s back with us,” Roman says, hips jerking a little, and Seth takes his hand away. “Ah, fuck no no no, don’t stop.”

“Don’t wanna set you off,” Seth rasps. “You’ve looked ready to pop ever since we broke out the cane. Ring’s on the table. I - fuck, fuck - I wanna see it on you. Cause you gotta fuck her rough.”

Renee holds out her hand for the cock ring - she’s a fan, especially of this one, a soft silicone snap-closure in blue, looks great on her guy - and sits up to get her hands on Roman too. Thumbs the ring open and gets it in place, and Roman makes the neediest little moan when she fastens it. 

“Good boy,” she says to Roman. “Not *you*,” to Seth, smacking his hands away, letting Roman have a little breathing room, and Seth smirks at her obnoxiously. “In fact, I think you should wait until I tell you before you get inside him. You can prep him, finger him all you want, but I’ll tell Dean if you start before I say you can.”

The threat’s not idle, and she knows what’ll probably happen. Dean’s generally happy to let Seth co-top (you really _can’t_ stop them from tag-teaming, evidently), but she’d seen the instructions he’d left Seth for tonight, and one of them was that he had to listen to her when it came to sex. He was allowed to be in complete control for anything kink-oriented, but she calls the shots for sexual things. 

Seth slowly nods. “You know you’re just making Roman suffer.”

“He likes it. Besides, he’s getting something else he asked for. Win-win for him.”

“And for you,” Seth retorts, but there's no real anger. Just his usual bitching.

“Bet your ass.” She tugs Roman over, stopping him just as he gets between her thighs. “Baby, does Dean make you hold out until he says you can come?”

Roman nods, biting his lip and trembling with staying still. “Yeah. A lot.”

“I'm telling you that you can come whenever you need to. But you have to tell me, because I'm the only one that's touching that cock ring tonight. Not Seth, and definitely not you.” 

“Whatever you want,” he says, and she nods, pulls him forward while raking his back with her nails.

He fucks into her viciously deep and slow, right from the start, and it’s perfect. Sharp, sudden pain of being stretched open, and his hands close around her wrists - better than cuffs, warm and secure, and she shouts, jerks against his hold. His mouth crashes into hers, slick and messy, biting at her lip and sucking hard to make her surge up again. She’s making harsh, needy moans and knows herself well enough not to be surprised; she’s loud in the beginning, gets quiet once she’s come a few times.

Roman knows it, too, keeps her in place as he changes angle, gets her knee up over his hip and quickens his pace. Builds speed and intensity, pins her down and keeps his promise of fucking her into the mattress. “Come on,” he urges her, baring his teeth, scraping them along her upper breast, “come on, babygirl, that all the fight you got in you?”

Renee’s almost-but-not-quite shocked at the snarl that forms in her throat. She tries to tug her hands free, tries to kick, shoves up harder against Roman, and none of it does any good. It just makes him rest more of his weight on her and switch to a shorter, harder stroke. Perfect drag of his dick against her clit, and she’s begging for _more, harder, again, don’t stop, please_.

Keeps pleading for a while, right up until the point she goes crashing over the edge, biting down on Roman’s shoulder. He shouts, fucking her through her orgasm, and it’s starting to blur into a beautiful pain-pleasure, the way she’s pinned in place and crying. Dimly, she registers that Seth’s gotten to his knees behind Roman and is spreading him open, causing Roman’s rhythm to falter.

Roman’s breath punches out of him, rasping “fuck, please Seth now, need it now, fucking get in me”, and Renee laughs, curls nails into his lower back and locks eyes with Seth.

“Do it,” she says, and the full-body tremble that goes through Roman as Seth pours lube over his hand and begins fingering him just kills her. She’s got the breath to talk now, and she presses her mouth to Roman’s ear, kissing and whispering “you feel fucking gorgeous, you love this, you love being fucked, why didn’t I know this? Why didn’t you show me before?”

“Always been shy about it, right baby?” Seth purrs, doing something with his fingers that makes Roman whine and push back. “Up until somebody gets something in him, and then he’s a slut for it. Ah-ah, Ro, you don’t get more until I hear her crying again, that was really fucking pretty.”

“Come over here and make me,” she says, dragging her nails across Roman’s shoulders.

Seth laughs, leaning up to kiss some of the nail marks she’s left. “Ah, gorgeous, don’t get greedy. Don’t you like how sweet Ro takes it?”

Seth’s got Roman whimpering and shaking almost to pieces, just on his fingers, and Renee’s sort of jealous. He looks like he’s having a transcendent fucking experience, moaning and putting his mouth on any part of Renee he can reach to try and stifle it. She won’t let him, can deny him this small thing while she floats on the perfect burn of him fucking her. Balls her fist into his hair and holding him in place, smiling for his soft whimpers.

“Give me your hand, baby,” she coaxes, and Roman shifts his weight onto his knees and left hand as his right reaches down to tangle with hers. She presses their fingers to her clit and shows him how she needs it, arching hard against him, grinding up with a cry. “Like that, just like that, make it hurt, you know how good it’ll be.”

Their hands quickly become slick with her, and she tries to push up against Roman for some leverage. It doesn't work; all she can do is cry out in frustration and urge him “more, more, please, come on, fuck me harder”, losing the last word in a wail. It always - always, no matter what she or Dean try to tell Roman - takes him a while before he’ll get as rough as she likes. He’s a sweetheart, but she needs for him not to care about how hard he’s going at her.

Finally, he curls one hand around the back of her head, keeping her still as he drives into her, and his other hand rubs vicious at her clit. Perfect, absolutely perfect, she can’t focus on anything else, exactly what she needs.

“Oh, you decided to get with the program?” Seth says, needling tone in his voice, and the slap of his palm against one of the welts on Roman’s ass. Roman howls, bottoms out almost a little too deep, and Renee’s biting his shoulder and trying not to sob as she approaches the edge again. “Come on, baby, up on your knees, keep ‘em spread. Jesus, you’re gorgeous like this, you’re both gorgeous.”

Everything in her is lighting up, breath-stealing and electric and making her come so hard she screams (which never happens, _holy shit_ ), and Roman’s begging her to let him come because he can’t hold out any longer. She can just about maintain the coordination to shift her hips back and flick open the closure on the cock ring before Roman growls and spills into the condom.

Seth takes care of the cleanup, which is good, because Renee’s a puddle of aching, pleased girl, and she curls herself around one of the pillows while Seth repositions Roman. She reaches over to stroke Roman’s face, murmurs “thank you” and “so good for us” while Seth preps himself with lube and a condom and slides into Roman smooth and sweet.

When she imagined how this might have gone, it wasn’t like this. She expected Seth to be rougher, expected Roman to take it the way he takes pain, stoic until you pull the emotion to the surface. It’s nothing like she expected: Seth fucks Roman slow and deliberate, savoring all of Roman’s starving-gorgeous moans, kissing him soft and openmouthed when Roman begs for it, giving Roman what he wants even though Roman looks absolutely exhausted. She snags the phone off the table, gets a short video of the way Seth breathes Roman’s name, the way Roman shakes and keens.

Seth turns his head when he notices her, looks absolutely dazed and blown-apart, like it’s all hitting him at once. His hands tighten on Roman’s hips, and she has a flash memory of tracing the same marks on Dean. Exactly the size and placement of Seth’s fingers, and that’s another thing she didn’t know she was missing out on.

“Next time,” she rasps out, her throat sore from crying and screaming but needing to get this on video, and both Seth and Roman’s eyes snap to her. “Next time we’re going to fuck you both. Me and Dean.”

“Yes, oh my god yes, please,” Seth gasps, and Roman can’t do anything but widen his eyes and nod and cry out. She’s never been much of a talker, but this time, she can’t help it. Not when she sees how crazy it’s driving Seth.

“Think about it, _princess_ ,” she says, and Seth snarls, fingers tightening on Roman’s hips. “Dean would want Roman, I bet. Roman would be so easy for him, take anything Dean gave him, wait as long as he wanted. And that way, Dean could watch me fucking you.”

Seth’s shaking, eyes blown-out, right on the edge of coming. She puts the phone back on the table and leans in. Pets Roman’s hair and looks up at Seth, still talking.

“He never tells me about you two, but you know he doesn’t have to. You’ve had a girl do you with a strap-on before, I know you have. You fucking lit up when I said me and Dean would fuck you. I can’t wait to find out what you sound like, Seth. Maybe Roman will come early - he seems sensitive - maybe my boy and I will have to fill you up from both ends, fuck your mouth and your ass. That something you want?”

Soft, broken moaning of _please please please_ from Seth, who only lasts another couple thrusts before coming. He and Roman collapse onto the bed, and everything’s silent for a while. Just the sound of their breathing, the soft shush of Roman's hand through Seth's hair.

Renee starts thinking about cleaning up, they all look wrecked and no one wants to wake up covered in bodily fluids tomorrow. Roman stops her, though, getting to his feet and shaking his head.

“Stay, all right?” he says, going into the bathroom, voice floating through the door. “I kinda have to handle this.”

Seth’s sprawled across the bed from her, and he coughs before answering her surprised look. “Part of the scene. Ro’s caretaking streak runs deep. Let him do his thing.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, guys. Thank you so much for going on this ride with me, and for all the lovely comments you've left. I'm still floored that this story has received such a positive reaction, and I truly enjoyed writing it.

Seth isn’t wrong about Roman’s need to care for them - it’s honestly some of the sweetest aftercare she’s ever received. She loves her husband, a lot, but sometimes he needs to be reminded of simple things, and Roman just handles everything effortlessly. 

He cleans both her and Seth up with a warm washcloth, slowly and sweetly kissing various parts of their bodies whenever he gets the urge, then asks if they want to put clothes on. Seth apparently doesn’t, sleeps nude in any circumstance, but Renee appreciates sleeping in a clean pair of boxers and one of Roman’s shirts. It’s huge and comfortable and smells like him, and she doesn’t have anything of Dean’s. It’ll more than do.

She’s about to drag Roman back to bed, but he picks up the cane from the floor and holds it. Looks at Seth, who nods, and Roman fishes out a box of antiseptic wipes. He wipes down the cane and handle, then rolls it in the linen holder Seth took it out of, and puts it back in the duffel bag. 

“Scene,” Seth says quietly. 

It startles Renee. She’s used to playing with Dean, who can read her well enough to know when she is and isn’t in the headspace for a scene. Roman’s posture changes - gets softer and more lazy, and he puts his briefs back on and snags the water bottle before returning to the bed. He doesn’t get in, looks at Renee first.

“Thank you, gorgeous,” he says. “That was a lot for you, I know.”

Seth reaches out sleepily. “Talking is good. Talking in bed is better. C’mere.”

Roman smiles as he crawls back in between Renee and Seth, resting carefully on his back, and she’s surprised he can stand to put weight on it. He lets Seth curl against his chest, kissing the top of Seth’s head, and turns to Renee.

“Want to get in on this?”

“Yeah,” she answers, draping a leg over Roman and Seth’s, resting her arms on Roman’s shoulder. “How are you so alert after that?”

He shrugs. “I think I get a reverse of what most everyone else feels. I’m out of it when I need to be topped, get deep in subspace until I get enough pain or pleasure. But after, it’s like my head’s totally clear - nothing in it. So I need to give back some of the care I’ve gotten, which is why I had to clean y’all up, disinfect the cane, that stuff.”

“It helped?” she asks, sinking into body heat and the softness of the bed.

“Should be asking you that,” Roman says, and nods. “Yeah, a lot. Thank you so much, again. Anything you need before you crash?”

She mumbles a no, because right now, it’s sleep and then to call her husband when she wakes up. Roman makes an amazing full-body pillow, and she finds herself waking up in the pre-dawn hours much more rested than she usually is after a scene. Her phone tells her that it’s 6-ish, which means Dean might be up for one of his between-pills periods, so she extracts herself from the bed and goes out into the living room.

 _hey baby, you up?_ she sends, moving her suitcase off the couch so she can sit down.

Her phone starts ringing about two minutes later, and she smiles as she answers. “Hey, you.”

“Okay, first off,” Dean says, shirtless, arm wrapped in the bandages instead of the brace, lazing against the pillows with his hair wrecked enough to tell her he’s only recently woken up, “you all just made my fucking life, Jesus Christ.”

“Are you complaining?”

“Fucking never. Oh my god, you - all of you - you’re like, nuclear level hot, I don’t even know where to start.” She yawns, the phone involuntarily moving up and down, and Dean eyebrows at her. “Are you wearing Ro’s shirt?”

“Mmmhmm. You didn't leave me one. He put it on after he cleaned us up. Fucking hell, he's sweet, you never told me how sweet he is. Or how kinky.”

Dean shakes his head. “Never thought you'd be interested in the harder stuff. I'll tell you right now, babe, I jerked off to all the pictures and videos and I still can't get the shot of you with the cane out of my head.”

She shivers, shifting a little against the just-fucked ache in her cunt. “That's uh, gonna be a topic for when you're healed up, trust me. You liked seeing me hit Roman?”

“I liked seeing you let that anger out,” he answers. “You're fucking adorable and shit so much of the time, but I know you get angry and I hate that you push it down. Ain't good for anyone.”

He doesn't really have any room to talk when it comes to anger issues, but she appreciates the input. “It felt really good. Both that and when I used my fists. I wouldn't have thought of it. Seth read me pretty well.”

“Fuckin' blew my mind. He did amazing, especially since he doesn't normally top. Don't tell him I said that.”

“Could've fooled me,” she says, and stretches. Winces as she feels the bite on her shoulder, and Dean’s eyes widen.

“Show me,” he says. It's not a request. 

She pulls the shirt over, and she can't tell how nasty it looks over the FaceTime inset, but the sound her husband makes gives her a pretty good idea.

“Fuck, baby, who marked my girl up like that?”

“Roman. Don't be mad, I liked it.”

“I'm not mad,” Dean says. “Feel bad I didn't get to see him do it, and kind of guilty cause I didn't even go over your limits with him. Sides, it's not gonna show unless you wear, like, a tank top.”

She tugs the shirt back into place, feeling chilly and exposed in the air-conditioning. Dean makes a low sound in his throat, familiar and coaxing.

“Ah, gorgeous, you know how proud I am of you, right?” She nods, but he sees through it like he always does. “I can't believe how much you did tonight. You handled scenes you've never done before, with partners who are still unfamiliar.” It’s juvenile, but she sticks her tongue out at him, and he laughs. “Fuck off, babe, I’m trying to be all conscientious and shit, and you’re being a brat.”

“I’m okay. I’m - I’m good. I mean, I’m sore everywhere and I realized I haven’t eaten anything since noon yesterday and I should probably get some more sleep, but good?”

“Go into the side pocket on Seth's gear bag, he keeps some protein bars in there. They taste pretty fucking nasty, if you ask me, but they'll get you through a couple hours more sleep.”

“Thanks,” she says, and he makes a shooing motion.

“Go, eat, sleep. I’m gonna walk Blue and then go back to bed. Seth there?”

She looks around, notices one of his bags and jacket is missing. “Probably at the box.”

“When he comes back, drag him back to bed with you and Rome. He doesn’t have to sleep, just don’t let him Energizer bunny his way through the morning. He gets vicious topdrop.”

“I will. Love you so much.”

“Love you too.”

The call closes, time blinking across her screen, and she goes for Seth’s bag, tears open a protein bar with her teeth. Even the first bite makes her feel better, some of that sudden clawing hunger easing, and she curls up on the sofa. Decides not to scroll through Instagram comments - which is never fun, and she’s in too good a mood to ruin - and hears Roman call out sleepily from the bedroom.

“Y’all leave me already?”

She brings the protein bar into the bedroom, finishing it off, and leans against the doorway. “Seth’s at the box, I think. I was talking to Dean.”

Roman grins, rolls onto his side. “How’s our boy?”

“Seething in jealousy from the videos and pictures we sent. Jerked it to the caning already. Oh, and we have orders to drag Seth back to bed once he gets in.” 

“Good. He’s a fucking nightmare to deal with if he’s not brought down.” He watches her go into the bathroom and drink a cup of water. “What about you? Can I drag you back to bed now?”

“Mmmm, maybe.” 

She comes back into the bedroom, gets close enough to the bed to anticipate Roman reaching out, pulling her by the waist onto the bed. She squeaks, a little, and Roman laughs, rolls onto his side and curls himself around her. Presses his mouth to her neck, and she sighs, relaxes back against him. Roman never talks much in bed, unlike Dean who you virtually have to gag to get to shut up, but she loves the way he lazes in the morning. It’s always disappointing to leave a bed with Roman in it.

His long fingers trace little patterns on her hands and forearms, stroke down between her knuckles and pull her right hand up to kiss and mouth at the marks left by the tape. She curls her fingers in his hair, lets the strands slip through them, and lets herself drop off until she hears Seth walking into the table in the main room and cursing his head off.

Roman snickers, raises his voice. “Get in here, uce. Me and Renee will kiss it better.”

“Shoulda asked where it was,” Seth says, dropping his bag and coming into the bedroom. “I just did six reps of 205 on hang snatches, 300 burpees, and 20 minutes on the assault bike.”

“I have no idea what that means,” Renee says, yawning and waving him in. “But Dean said to drag you back to bed, so get in here.”

“It means he better have showered at the box,” Roman groans against her neck. 

“Yes, dear.”

Seth strips out of his tee shirt and shorts, crawls into bed in his briefs. His hands and face are cold from the October air, and Renee shrieks as he slides his hands under her shirt and pulls her over him. She lands on her side, with Seth between her and Roman, and it’s annoying to be separated from Roman’s body heat, but she’ll deal. 

“So I was thinking, after we get up and before we hit the road, we should stop by this little cafe off 78 for breakfast. Saw it while I was driving to the box, it looks like they’ve got-”

“Oh no,” Roman says, pinning Seth down in the sheets, shaking his head. “No, you’re not planning shit right now.”

“I wasn’t planning-”

“Sounded like it,” Renee says, sliding an arm across Seth’s belly and resting her head on his shoulder. “It’s too early for that. Lie here with us until there’s actually been sunlight for an hour or so, and then maybe we’ll talk breakfast.”

Seth looks like he wants to argue, but he sees Renee’s raised eyebrow and feels Roman’s grip tighten, and sighs. 

“Yeah, all right. But I want chocolate chip pancakes before 9 am.”

She’s not going to tell him he sounds like a whiny toddler, but she supposes that it’s more maturity than Dean shows. Roman locks eyes with her, long-suffering look on his face, and they make noises of agreement before Roman proceeds to fall asleep on top of Seth. He looks hilariously put-out at first, but finally pulls a hand out from the tangle of bodies to stroke both Roman’s and Renee’s hair.

Renee thinks maybe she should do this more often.


End file.
